


Held Hostage And Left To Starve (Death by Spider)

by franksmile



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M, Spiders, mostly just dramatic! frank and awkward! gee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 14:07:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3853459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/franksmile/pseuds/franksmile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The spider is big. The spider is big and gross, and Frank is absolutely going to die here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Held Hostage And Left To Starve (Death by Spider)

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by one of those AU posts on Tumblr.

The spider is huge and scary and has gross, hairy legs and when Frank sees it looking at him with its unnecessary and totally disgusting amount of eyes, he might just scream a little. A lot. Really loud. Like a five year old girl.

"Oh my god, oh my god, it's on the fridgeee, aww,  _gross_ ," Frank squeals and runs back out of the room, jumps on his toes, shudders and runs back in, balancing on the pinnacle of indecision. 

He doesn't want to stand here, he wants to go hide in his bed, burrowed under his blankets, and never come out. But what if it moves and he thinks it’s left and then, and _then,_ he wakes up with it on his face? He shudders again and backs into the corner that’s furthest away from the fridge. What if he can never get into his fridge again? What if he _starves to death_? He’s resigned himself to his fate of death by starvation when there’s a knock at the door. Frank mildly panics, knocking three books off his dining room table and hitting his knuckles on the wall as his swings around wildly.

“Uhhh, just a second.”

What if the spider moves while he’s gone? And anyway, he has to go by the fridge to get to the door and dear god, Frank just might be passing as half tough looking with his mass of tattoos but really he's a giant pussy, oh my g-

“I heard screaming,” says a voice nervously, muffled by the door. “I guess I’m just checking there’s been no, like, I don’t know, stabbings?”

 _Oh this is worse. So much worse._ Frank thinks. “I’m okay.” He lies shakily.

There’s silence for a long moment and Frank hovers between the door and his safe corner, eyeing the spider warily. The person is still at the door. “Are you sure?” The voice says. “Do I need to call someone?”

Frank huffs out a nervous laugh at that. _Yes._ Frank thinks. _Call the authorities, I’m sure there will be someone that can get this damn thing out of my house._

Frank realises he has to open his door to let this person know he’s okay and not being held hostage by a crazed axe murderer but rather a douche bag spider, so he does some sort of weird fast crawling past the fridge, squealing again, and accidentally runs into the door, swearing. He swings it open and gets a little dazed, because well, it’s that cute guy from next door that Frank keeps ogling on his way to work but hasn't spoken to yet because the cute guy always scurries off after he gets his mail, Star Wars pyjama pants dragging on the carpet as he scoots up the stairs.

“Um, hi,” the cute guy says. He's wearing pyjama pants with little cars on them tonight, and they're covered in splatters of red and black paint.

“Hello, can’t really talk, there’s a spider on my fridge and what if it moves-” Frank says in a rush, turning back around and scooting back through to the kitchen. The spider stares back at him from its asshole position on the fridge door handle. Frank proceeds to back into his corner.

“Um,” says the cute guy, running his hand through his nest of black hair and looking rather lost standing in the doorway. Frank flaps a hand at him and bounces on each foot.

“I haven’t been stabbed.” Frank says absentmindedly. “You can go back to your apartment.” Then he turns to the cute guy hopefully. “Or you could help me get it out?”

The cute guy flails his hands around a little, as if trying to collect his words from the air around him. “A spider?” he finally chokes out. “Man, I thought something was on fire or you’d dropped, like, a really expensive TV. You sounded really scared.”

Frank can’t decide between scowling and making a sheepish face, so he probably ends up looking really weird. “Well,” he says, shrugging. “I’d be a lot less scared if you got rid of it.” He tries to make what he hopes is an adorably enticing face and runs his hand through his mop of hair.

The cute guy laughs; this weird honking laugh that Frank has to stifle a giggle at. “Okay,” he shrugs, stepping into the apartment. “I’m Gerard.”

“Frank.”

Gerard and Frank proceed to stand side by side and stare at the spider for a very long minute. Frank admits he’d exaggerated; it’s not that big, but the fucker isn't small either. Frank is pretty sure it’s not poisonous, but he’s not taking any chances.

“Okay,” Frank says, waving a hand at the fridge. “Go ahead.”

Gerard looks at Frank blankly. “Well… do I just kill it?”

“No!” Frank exclaims. “I mean, it hasn't done anything wrong, besides existing.”

Gerard snorts. “Okay. Okay, okay…” He looks around. “Um…do you have a jar?”

Frank gets a jar from under the sink and hands it Gerard. Gerard gingerly puts it about four inches away from the spider.

“Oh man,” Frank giggles. “You’re just as much a pussy as me.”

Gerard sniffs and looks mildly offended. “I am not.”

“Dude, I don’t think it’s a jumping spider. Well, I fucking hope it isn't.”

Gerard squints at the spider and moves the jar half an inch closer. “If it weren’t on the door handle I could just put the jar over it and then put paper under it.”

Frank backs away further. “Yeah, I've already established it’s an asshole.”

“It might be a very nice spider,” Gerard allows.

“No spiders are nice,” Frank mutters darkly.

“There must be some.”

“Dead ones?”

“Frank.” Gerard admonishes.

“True." Frank pulls his lip ring into his mouth. "I don’t much like the dead ones either.” He admits.

Gerard rolls his eyes “Okay,” He says. He sounds like he’s reassuring himself. “It’s probably just going to climb in when I put the jar close to it,”

Frank thinks this is a rather hopeful plan, but he doesn't say anything because there’s a cute guy in his apartment very kindly removing a spider for him and he hasn't got any better plans.

It turns out the spider is not nice at all and it is a jumping spider, because suddenly it’s gone and Gerard is screaming even louder than Frank did minutes ago.

“It’s in my hair, oh my god, it’s in my hair, get it out get it out _get it out!”_

Frank struggles for a bit, deciding between helping Gerard and maybe touching the spider or staying safe in the corner, but Frank isn't a total jerk, so he bats at Gerard’s hair rather unhelpfully while Gerard flails his hands around.

“Frank please,” Gerard moans, shaking his head like a dog.

Frank screams again, and he’s not even worried about what he sounds like because _the spider is on his hand now._ “It’s on my hand!” He screeches, shaking his hand about wildly. “Gerard!”

“What if it goes in my hair again?” Gerard exclaims helplessly.

Frank squeals as it moves up his hand further, not even wobbling as Frank jostles his hand around. “I helped you!”

“Okay, you have a point, sorry, I just don’t really like spiders, I really only helped you cause I think you’re cute but like I’m not sure this is worth it, I mean you’re pretty but like ‘helping you get a spider pretty’, I don’t know man-”

“Gerard, shut the fuck up and get it off me!” Frank screams. Gerard goes bright red and flails about a bit more, but then he grabs Frank's wrist, mouth set in a determined line, and flicks the asshole off Frank. It lands on the bench and Frank summons what courage he has left and slams the jar over it. It looks up at him innocently.

“Fuck you,” Frank says to it, giving it the finger. Gerard snorts.

“Well,” Gerard says, his chest heaving. “That was traumatic.”

Frank shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Thanks dude.”

“I’m not really sure I helped much, but you’re welcome.”

Frank hands Gerard a piece of paper. “Could you take it outside?”

Gerard looks rather conflicted. “Okay,” He says slowly. He looks nervous. “But you have to come.”

“Okay,” Frank says, just as slowly. “Do you wanna get a coffee after?”

Gerard grins. “Yes.”

Frank grins back.

**Author's Note:**

> 4 Em <3


End file.
